To Carry A Heavy Heart
by BeagMacTire
Summary: It's one of two responses I had to the events in this week's episode. Spoilers for 4X17 The Gang are in a state of shock. She'd went downhill so fast... One minute she was there, the next gone. They hadn't known; they were too late to save her. Warehouse 13 and the characters therein are not mine. Possible 2-3 chapter fic.
1. Chapter 1

The day was a cold miserable one; much the same as the mood cast over the Colorado cemetery. Pete stood in the rain as the minister began his speech. His jaw was clenched tight, as he tried to pretend the wetness on his cheeks was just rain; only it wasn't. He was trying to be strong for the others, like she has always been, but he couldn't. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear her chuckle, _"You're fighting a losing battle there Lattimer."_ and almost feel the playful punch that would have followed it.  
But he would never hear that chuckle again, there would be no more sisterly jabs to the arm; He never thought he could miss a person punching him, so much. Shaking his head, his eyes noticed a figure standing apart from the other mourners. The sight of Helena Wells enraged him. he wanted to charge over and demand to know where she had been, why she hadn't been there. His temper cooled as if ice had been poured over it, as he already knew the answer s; she simply hadn't known.

Myka had hidden her illness from them all. it wasn't until she went downhill at a frightening pace that he found out.

_As he walked upstairs, Pete shifted uncomfortably. He'd been having a steady niggling vibe for nearly two months. His musing was abruptly shattered, as he heard a crash from the bathroom, followed by a low cursing.  
Running up the corridor, he knocked insistently, "Hello? Hey, you okay?"  
Myka's voice was strained when she answered, "Yeah, Pete. I'm fine."  
Opening the door, he saw his partner curled up on the tiled floor; she looked like hell. The other agent had become distant of late, and had been spending more time either archiving or hiding in her room reading. The short time they had actually seen her, she had managed to hide the fact she was deteriorating at a rapid rate.  
Crouching to her level, Pete asked, "Mykes, what's wrong?"  
Frowning, she tried to push him away and stand, only to be hit by another wave of agony and falling. She would have hit the tiles again had Pete not caught her, "Woah!"  
Slumping in his arms, Myka whispered, "You can't tell the others... Since Leena... You just can't tell them okay."  
"Tell them what?" His partner was like his sister, and to see her in pain made his chest ache, "What's happening? Is it an artefact..."  
With a wry smile, Myka shook her head, "Nothing so exciting. I've got cancer Pete."  
There it was, that word, it drove the wind out of him, "What...? How...?" The rest of his sentence came as a series of incoherent breaths.  
"They tried treating it, but we just caught it too late." Keeping it together, she managed to finally voice the truth, "I'm dying Pete."  
"No." Picking her up, he took her to her room and carefully tucked her into bed. Straightening, he headed for the door, "I'm not just going to let you lie down and take this Myka. We'll find something! I promise." _

They did find something, an artefact which could have cured her; but when they got back to the B&B they were greeted by Dr Calder. The older woman had tears in her eyes and she merely shook her head. Myka had deteriorated so fast. There had only been two days between him finding out, and the end. Part of him was angry at Myka, had she told them sooner they could have fixed it; done something... Letting his temper cool again, he reached out to Claudia. The young woman pressed her face against his chest, crying hard.

As they moved away back towards the cars, Pete looked back to see Helena crouch beside the grave. Letting go of Claudia, he remembered the letter in his breast pocket.  
There had been one for each of them, sitting on Myka's bedside cabinet. But one remained in her notebook, scarcely finished. From the way Myka's notebook had been pushed off of the bed, he gathered she'd flat lined just as she finished the writing it.  
Careful not to interrupt the inventor's moment alone, Pete remained at a respectful distance until Helena looked up. Wiping her eyes hurriedly, she tried to impose a facade of calm over her features. Not that it would do her any good, her eyes were still red from what looked to be days worth of crying. "Peter."  
He winced, there was no accusation in her tone, but he couldn't help the surge of guilt. In his rush to get the Warehouse team to look for a possible cure, he had completely forgotten Helena. It wasn't until he saw Myka's letter he remembered. Since then he had carried a sickly feeling, had Helena known... he couldn't go down that path right now. It would only lead to the bottle.  
"You came."  
It was disturbing to see how defeated the normally fiery Victorian was, she breathed, "Of course I did."  
Wincing again, he nodded, "Yeah, of course, sorry."  
Nodding, Helena looked down to the grave, "It's just... Why didn't she tell me? I could have helped, I would have been there in a heartbeat..." Biting her lip, Helena's hand went to where her locket used to hang.  
Pete knew she wouldn't find it, because it was with the letter in his pocket, "Um, Helena, she wanted me to give you these."  
Pulling out the letter and locket, he cautiously handed them to her. Turning to leave, he paused, "She loved you, you know."  
Kneeling as she read the letter, tears began to pour from her eyes, "I know."  
With a final, awkward, nod, Pete left Helena to her grieving.

_Dear Helena._

_I'm sorry.  
I know that's hardly the best way to start a letter, but it needs to be said. The events leading up to this left me so confused and afraid , I hid this from everyone I cared about; I just didn't want to hurt you.  
I've written to the others, letters of goodbye, and thank you. I managed to write each one without falling apart, but Helena this is my seventh attempt. I've never been good with goodbyes, especially when it comes to you. Not to sound melodramatic, but I think with every goodbye we've shared, I've left parts of myself behind.  
Believe me, I know my timing is appalling, and it'll only make things worse; but I couldn't die without you knowing- or at least having put actions in place for you to find out- I love you. I always have. From the first moment we met at gun point, to the last. Even in Yellowstone when you were pointing that damned gun at my head, I still knew.  
I must ask one of you Helena. Be who you truly are. A wise and also slightly psychotic woman once told me, don't walk away from your truth. Please don't walk away from yours, the warehouse is part of who you are. I know you said you wanted a normal life, but Helena, you're THE HG wells. The warehouse are going to need a new agent, if you'd cover for me I'd owe you one.  
You taught me so much Helena, about myself and about the world. You are the most intelligent, beautiful, mad and brilliant person I ever had the privilege to meet.  
I am afraid I must cut my letter short, I think this is it, and Helena, I'm not afraid; not anymore._

_Forever yours  
Myka._

_P.s. How do you say goodbye to the one person who knows you better than anyone else?_

Clutching the letter to her chest, Helena felt the heavy sobs wracking her frame as she whispered, "I wish I knew."  
Fumbling with her locket, she placed it over her head. It felt heavier than before, stroking the familiar metal with a sigh; she paused to consider her options. Looking over to the Warehouse agents huddled together for comfort, for the first time in months she acknowledged the gaping hole in her chest. Looking down, she chuckled through her tears, "You're right. As always." Sighing, she shook her head, "I know I've been deluding myself. I should have been here, with the Warehouse; with you." Dropping back into a crouch, she sighed, "I know you'd be furious with me for dwelling in a realm of what if's; but Myka I can't help it." Running her hands through the grass, she whimpered, "I wish..." Rolling her eyes back, she breathed heavily, "God I wish for so many things, but here I only wish you had told me. We might not be here if..." Her throat tightened and the rest of the sentence died. Giving herself a moment, she waited until her breathing had returned to normal, or as normal as it could through sobs, "But you are right. I belong with the Warehouse. I'll go back." Her head hung heavily, "I only wish I'd realised this sooner. I should have come back with you after the mission with the Hyena jaw bone." Rising to her feet, she wiped her eyes again, "I'll come back to see you soon; I promise." Taking a hand full of dirt, she sprinkled it lightly into the hole, "I shouldn't have stayed away. I am so sorry Myka."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for your brilliant feedback. I hope this second chapter does not dissapoint.**

Life in the warehouse seemed now pale, a Myka shaped hole had been punched in the group, and everything around them seemed more gray.  
Wandering through the library, Helena let her fingers brush along the spines of the leather bound books. Pausing, she saw something bright sticking out of one of them; acting as a book mark. It was a copy of her book, _The Time Machine_. Sliding it off the shelf, she opened it to see a post it note. She choked up as she recognised the handwriting, but paused when she read it's message.

_Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. (3)_

Stroking the small yellow square, she sighed, "Oh Myka." She could feel her eyes begin to fill, "I need your strength."

She had gone back to Boone, only to collect the few items she had left at Nate's house. Running a hand though her hair, she returned to cataloguing the archives; the scene playing out in her head.

_Carefully opening the front door, Helena peered around before slipping inside. It was nearly two am. She had left without a word. Pete had still been on the phone, and she was already half way up the street in her car. There had been over twenty missed calls from Nate; she'd ignored them all.  
Having spent the four days between Myka's death and the funeral in her car. She hadn't quite been able to bring herself to see the others.  
Crossing the living room, she was aiming for the hiding place she'd built into the side of one of the sofa's, when a grunt came from the settee behind her. Spinning, as the light was switched on, she released a startled cry of, "Nate!"  
Sleep clouded his eyes, wiping them, he muttered, "Emily, where the hell have you been? We looked for you, we thought..."  
"I've been in South Dakota."  
Sitting up, he woke himself fully, "What the hell were you doing in South Dakota?"  
There was an edge to his voice that immediately put her on the defensive, "I had to go. There wasn't time to explain."  
"And you couldn't have called?" Standing, he was looking down on her; it reminded her of the way her father used to chide her, "No word, you've been gone nearly a week Emily!"  
Despite the concern in his voice, anger had overcome it, that coupled with his dominating body language just pushed her too far, "I'm a grown woman Nate; I don't need to report to you."  
Straightening, his jaw set, "You were with _them_ weren't you. The Agents who came a few months ago."  
Her shoulders squared, the thunder was rolling and she could feel one hell of a fight brewing, "And if I was?"  
His nostrils flared, "You know what hurts Emily? Is when you're in bed with the woman you love, and she can't even look at you because you know she is thinking about someone else. You were with him weren't you?!"  
Helena was taken aback, but her vicious streak was in play and she found herself laughing at him, "How bloody typical! You assume it was Peter who was the one I loved! Men, you think the world revolves around you and your precious manhoods. Yes, I was with them; and I'm going back to them. Because do you know what hurts Nate? Turning away from a life you love, because you are afraid of losing the one person who tethers you to this planet. Terrified that somehow you'll let her down, again, cause her pain again..." Her voice had turned into a tearful yell, "What hurts Nate is knowing she loved you too, but I was too late to do anything about it. That she died and I never told her how she meant everything to be; how she pulled me back from oblivion when no one else could. She was the only good I could see in this God forsaken world; and now she's gone!"  
Breathing heavily through gritted teeth, she could feel where her nails had dug into her palms.  
Nate was momentarily struck dumb. His lips moved wordlessly for a while. As he struggled for words, Helena began hastily shoving her things into a duffle bag.  
"Wait... What are you saying?"  
Part of her wanted to snap at him, insult his intelligence and leave in a storm, another part of her remembered the kindness he'd shown her and felt a pang of guilt. But the need to escape overruled all else, and she said simple; without malice, "I'm leaving Nate."  
"Helena?" A small face peered around the doorway, "You're leaving."  
This was what she had been afraid of, the child was her weakness, intelligent eyes searching for answers, "Adelaide. I..." She couldn't lie, "Yes. I'm leaving; I have to darling."  
The girl nodded, "I know. You haven't been happy since your friends showed up a few months ago. You tried to hide it, and ignore it; but there is a look you get... You miss them. Myka in particular." The girl looked guilty a moment, "I heard it all, you love her."  
Nodding, HG admitted quietly, "Yes."  
Adelaide nodded, "Then you have to go! If that life makes you happy, you have to go. It wouldn't be fair of us to hold you back; right dad?"  
Nate's jaw was clenched, and he barely even acknowledged the question. Nodding to him, Helena whispered, "I'm sorry."  
Walking towards the door, she paused to kiss Adelaide on the forehead, "If you need me, you only have to call. Goodbye my dear, and thank you."_

Once again Helena found herself outside the dead agents' vault. Her hand was moving of its own accord as she turned the dial again.  
The door in front of her opened, and she closed her eyes. Stepping into the room, she let the familiar scent wash over her. She had told the others that she had been sleeping in her old room in the vault. But as she had searched through the list of names, she found herself irresistibly pulled to select another.  
Lying on Myka's bed, she buried her head in the crimson pillows, inhaling deeply. The scent of her perfume and the smell of her hair still lingered in the fabric. If she closed her eyes tightly enough, she could almost pretend that she was still here.  
Regardless of how many times she wanted to hold Myka's pillow, she would always move to the other side before slipping beneath the covers. Reaching over to the empty space, holding her breath for fear of crying. But it was a futile effort. Sobs began to shake her shoulders. On Myka's bedside table, Helena's eye caught on a book. Reaching over she carefully opened the book mark- another post it note- and read; _Life is either a daring Adventure or it is Nothing. ~Helen Keller (1)  
_Her heart clenched as she recognised the words on the page, it was a copy of 'The Invisible man'.

"Hey Helena?"  
The inventor jumped, "Steven! You startled me."  
Smiling slightly, he moved further into the Warehouse library where Helena was currently curled, "I'm making Lasagne tonight. Do you want to come to the B&B and get some?"  
Forcing a pleasant smile over her features, which seemed to be constantly forlorn, she shook her head, "No thank you Steven. I am perfectly fine here."  
The force of the lie nearly knocked him over, but he managed to clamp down on the automatic reaction to blurt _lie._ Walking over, a hand went to the back of his neck, "Hey, I know we haven't really spoken, or anything; and it's probably not my place to say... But Helena, you haven't eaten for days; and by the bags under your eyes I would say your sleep patterns haven't been right either."  
Crouching, he softened his voice as much as he could, "We're all worried. You've just withdrawn into the depths of the Warehouse, and..." He winced, "We've worked out it isn't your room you are staying in."  
Helena found herself on her feet, "You are right Steven. It is not your place to say. If you'll excuse me; I'm tired."  
Cursing under his breath, he followed her, "HG, wait."

She could hear him gaining on her, not thinking, she realised she was running.  
Steve was completely confused, he heard the sound of electricity, and the artefacts on the shelves began to tremble.  
Helena knew she was crying, her emotions seemed to be exploding like bombs around her as she raced through the aisles. This wasn't her, what was happening? The ground began to tremble and the air around her sparked. She needed to reign them in; but she just couldn't!  
Tears streaming down her cheeks, her shoulder collided with a nearby shelf, jarring painfully and knocking her off balance.  
Pushing himself faster, Steve managed to gain on the inventor as she stumbled. Spotting a neutraliser tank, he tackled her into it; covering them both in purple goo.  
Lying on the floor, he was breathing heavily; the author only curled into a ball. "I'm sorry Steven. That was careless of me."  
Pushing himself into a sitting position, he placed a hand on her shoulder, "I didn't mean to upset you like that... I should have been more careful. Are you okay?"  
Sitting up, she sighed, wiping away goo and tears from her cheeks. "No. But there is nothing I can do about it; so I need to try and carry on."  
Running a hand over his face, he nodded sadly, "I wish that was a lie."  
Getting to her feet, she offered him her hand, "So do I dear."

In the end, she had joined them for dinner. She had managed to fix a worn smile on her lips, and traded hollow pleasantries; but she had only picked at her food.  
Excusing herself, she retreated to the library; unable to bear the concerned looks any longer.  
Even as she sat in the dim room, clutching a pillow to her chest, she could feel her world crashing down around her; who was she kidding? Her world was gone; Myka was gone. She had become everything, the only reason she had been able to function in Boone was the thought that the curly haired agent was alive, and safer being away from her. What was left for her? The Warehouse? That was only a ghost of a tether. She lay back on the couch, Myka asked her to cover for her; and she'd be damned if she was going to let her down again.  
Pausing, she ran the thought again. Cover for her; they had been her words. Reaching to her breast pocket where the letter lay, she unfolded the already well read paper; _if you'd cover for me I'd owe you one._ Sitting bolt upright, she realised the danger of the line of thought blazing in her mind.  
She had been down this road before, and she knew it lead nowhere good... But Myka had said _cover for me._ She wasn't just seeing things?  
Pulling out the three post-its she had uncovered- having found another tucked between the pages of Myka's copy of 'The Island of Dr Moreau'.  
Then it hit her like a train, the notes had all been in her books; in places Myka knew she would be.  
The one person who knew her better than anyone else, it worked both ways. The younger agent knew her, in some ways, better than she knew herself.  
Laying out the notes, she reread her most recent discovery, _ The Problems of Puzzles are very near the Problems of Life ~ Erno Rubik (2)  
_Running her fingers over the paper, her mind began to work overtime. "What Myka?" She muttered to herself, "What are you trying to tell me?"  
Looking to the shelf above her, she spied the B&B's few remaining HG Wells novels. Standing, she reached out; but paused. "It can't hurt to look, could it?" _Am I going mad?_ "Very probably." A slight smile threatened to tug at her lips as she recalled a film of Alice and Wonderland, she had watched with Myka and the others. That was before Yellowstone, before she ruined everything. Taking a steadying breath, she took hold of 'War of the Worlds' and planted her feet, "Then again, all the best people are."  
And there it was; on the very first page. Myka's fourth note, _Change the Rules. Bering and Wells, solving puzzles; saving the day._


	3. Chapter 3

**As it turns out, after you finish writing a chapter, you actually have to post the thing! I am a technological simpleton. **

**Apologies for my delay in updating, I shall endeavour to do better in the near future.**

It had been two weeks, and Helena was no closer to working out what the notes meant.  
Lying them out, her brow furrowed, each had a tiny number affixed in the corner. Tilting her head, she sat cross legged on Myka's bed, reading each and putting them into order.  
"Come on Helena, what are you not seeing?"  
Her hand drifted to her neck, and she began playing with her locket. Worrying her bottom lip, she winced as the action was a habit picked up from the very woman occupying her thoughts. Setting them aside a moment she lay back onto the pillows. Staring up at the ceiling, she fumbled with the catch of her locket a moment, it seemed to be slightly stuck. Frowning, she raised it before her eyes and applied more careful force; until it finally opened with a pop. Something bright fell out and fell between the folds in the quilt. Pausing a moment, she noticed that there was another post-it folded inside. It read;

_The answer is; you don't._

Her heart was in her throat, scrabbling at the quilts, she froze when her eyes met the golden dual heads. The air whistled out of her lungs, as even more confusion began to set in, "The Janus coin?"

She wasn't exactly sure how long she had been staring at her former prison. But Helena could still feel the tremors coursing through her, at the same time she was becoming hyper aware of every sensory experience. As if her system was trying to reassure her that she was in fact corporeal; she wasn't a hologram. Snapping out of her moment, she reached for the purple gloves in Myka's bedside drawer. Finding they weren't there, she frowned. She knew the younger agent had always kept a pair close. Getting up, careful to avoid touching the coin, she opened the cabinet beneath the drawer. There were the gloves; resting on top of another familiar device. Slipping on the gloves, she picked up the black sphere. Rolling it over in her hands, her eyes passed between the coin and the orb.  
With a sigh, she reached for the twin heads, "I must be mad."

She had seen the agents operating the orb, while she was its resident, copying their movements in reverse she activated it; holding her breath for what was to come.

Suddenly, she was in the light; it was her room. Worrying her lip, confused at the lack of sensation, she asked hesitantly, "Helena?"  
Turning, she saw the Victorian leaning against her bedside cabinet. Her face was drained of all colour, and her mouth hung open.  
With a sigh of relief, Myka smiled, "You worked it out! I knew you would! I just..." She broke off.  
Helena was shaking, tears were pouring from her eyes, "M.. Myka?"  
Nodding, she spoke carefully, "It's me Helena."  
Gritting her teeth, Helena almost wished nothing had happened, "But you died... I... I attended your funeral."  
Wincing, Myka's voice was barely a whisper, "I know... I did die... Am dead; or at least my body is." Running a hand through her holographic hair, Myka could see the other woman's heart breaking in front of her. Stepping forward, she tried to touch her; only for her hand to glide through the other woman.

She heard the whimper, before she had realised she had released it. There it was; their relationship in a nutshell. Close; but never able to make contact. Shaking her head, Helena felt as if the walls were closing in around her. She knew the world was cruel, it had already taken everyone she loved. But this? In a way this was worse, Myka being there; but at the same time not. She had been in the coin, she knew the feeling of being wholly disjointed and unearthed. To be without the familiar, comfort of your own skin. Being unable to feel the wind, sun, or rain. It was torture of the worst kind; and now Myka was suffering it. She just couldn't take it. Suddenly she was moving, stumbling at first, she ran out of the room and back into the main body of the warehouse.  
Myka tried to follow her, "Helena!"  
But as she paused after about twenty metres, her leg had vanished, moving back, it returned. Reaching out, she watched as her hand flickered then disappeared, "Shit."  
Making her way back into her room, she rubbed her eyes heavily. She should have just left a letter explaining her plan... Hell, she should have told Helena she was dying. If only she could contact Dr Calder. Sighing, she ran over the memories in her head.  
_The prognosis was grim. There was no two ways about it; she was dying.  
Dr Calder knocked on her door, "Myka, the physician at the hospital called me... I've been placed in charge of your care."  
Nodding, the brunette agent, looked up to the kind-eyed doctor, "Doc... I haven't told the others; and I'm not going to."  
"Myka..."  
Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, "They just lost Leena, they don't need this hanging over them." Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, "I've informed Mrs Frederic. I've got a meeting with her tomorrow, while the others are at the Warehouse."  
Vanessa nodded, "I've been given clearance to try and find an alternative solution."  
"Artefacts?"  
The Doctor nodded, "You are a valuable member of this team Myka; the Regents do not want to lose you."  
For a moment anger rose within her, and she found herself growling, "They care when it suits their interest." Shaking her head, she apologised, "Sorry, I'm not myself at the minute."_

_"Agent Bering."  
Myka jumped in her seat, as the Sage appeared next to her, "Mrs Frederic. How are you?"  
Taking the seat beside her, she replied, "I am well, but that is not what we are here to discuss."  
Nodding, she seemed suddenly lost for words.  
"Dr Calder is pouring through the Warehouse database." "She said the regents had allowed her to look for an artefact to solve this."  
Standing, she placed a briefcase on the table, "I understand this is a trying time for you; is there no one you want to contact."  
Myka looked away a moment, _no one who is here_, "No Mrs Frederic. I'd rather keep this to myself as long as I can."  
Inclining her head, the Caretaker smiled softly, "I understand. Do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything, Agent Bering."  
"Thank you..." When Myka looked up, she was gone; but the brief case remained.  
Curious, she ran her fingers over the black leather, trying the catch, she was almost surprised when they popped with a click. Opening the case, she paused with a frown. Inside was a static bag; and Helena's orb.  
Her first thought had been terror; had they imprisoned her again? No. There was a note; _If the we run out of time, there are other options. Dr Calder will explain._  
"Other options?" _

Helena only stopped running when she reached a wall. Barely slowing, she let herself hit the concrete. Hard wrenching sobs violently wracked her frame as she pressed her forehead, hard, against the cool wall.  
"Agent Wells."  
Jumping in fright, Helena hurriedly wiped her eyes before turning, "Mrs Frederic." She had tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but failed in the attempt, "How can I help you?"  
The caretaker's eyes softened, "You found Myka."  
With a steadying breath, she nodded, "Yes."  
"We had hoped that we would be able to cure her before it came to this."  
Her fists began to tighten, as a surge of anger coursed through her like a flood, "I could have helped! I could have saved her!" The inventor's chest was heaving, and her heart was hammering. The anger had come so suddenly, adrenaline was making her hands shake, her voice dropped to a near whisper, "Why did you not tell me? Why was it left to Pete to remember me only after she had died?"  
Shifting her stance, Mrs Frederic seemed to be backing off, "Agent Bering asked us to treat her condition with the upmost privacy. She was afraid of being a burden to you all..." Pausing, she took in Helena's dishevelled appearance and sighed, "Helena, please get some rest; you look exhausted."  
Rubbing her eyes, the inventor growled, "Do I? Do I really? How could that be I wonder?" Turning on her heel, she stalked away from the sage.  
"Speak to her Helena. Let her explain; she didn't mean to hurt you."  
Sighing, she nodded, the fight gone from her tone; "I know she didn't."

As the door opened, Myka turned to see Helena stepping gingerly inside. Immediately she began to apologise.  
Holding up a hand, the Victorian shook her head, "Stop, just... don't apologise Myka; please." Walking over to the bed, she sat down, "I'm so tired."  
Moving closer, the younger agent nodded, "I understand, do you want me to go?"  
Carefully, Helena picked up the orb from where, in her fright, she had dropped it. Placing it on the bedside table, she shook her head, "No... I don't, I can't..." She winced, "Myka, I know you can't touch me or sleep with that thing, but..." Her voice was so weak, Myka's heart ached to see the other woman so small and vulnerable, "Please stay with me... Don't leave me."  
Crouching beside the bed, Myka nodded, "I'm not going anywhere."  
With a relieved sigh, Helena stretched out onto the bed, "Thank you." She had wanted to stay awake. So just spend the night, even if it was in silence, with Myka. But as her heavy eyelids closed, she looked to the younger woman crouched beside her and whispered, "I love you." Before slipping into a dreamless sleep.

**Thank you all so much for your fantastic feedback, I really do love hearing from you all!**


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